He entered the roadside bar quite reluctantly. It was late at night. The road was solitary. The bar was old and small. The paintings on the walls were dim, and their colors had faded with time. The window was broken, and through it, the road lights peeped shyly. The local people came here in disgust, as though their wives had whispered some incessant chirping in their ears. But as soon as they were drunk, they bade their sorrow farewell.
He sat on the chair. The owner of the bar was an old man. Yes, he was old—the wrinkles were evidence enough. If not, ask the regulars of the roadside bar. He was a daily customer, after all. The old man was drunk too, his eyes were red. A few days remained for him. Or perhaps tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow might be his last. Again, the wrinkles spoke the truth.
He approached the man and asked, “Come again, moron?”
“I should leave today, or my wife will kill me before you get your chance,” the man whispered.
“No. I must not say that to you. I’m strong and fit. Let me drink a bit more, and we’ll arrange a wrestling match.”
“You ought to. Only you are my savior. I’m already dead inside. Now, I’m just drinking.”
“Drinking is life. Life is about drinking,” the old man added, grabbing a bottle of Sula Vineyards and a packet of chips from the shelf. He poured the wine into two glasses and sat beside the man.
“It’s too late. You should shut the door,” the man insisted.
“I wish I could. Why not… go shut it yourself?” the old man murmured.
“Then, don’t gulp my glass, dummy… I beg you.”
Then, he closed the door and sat drinking with the old man. The night was still. Only the sound of their sips was heard. The old man ended up drinking the glass and poured again. The man was no exception.
“What is the secret of your life that you have never disclosed to anyone?” the old man asked.
“Why should I disclose it now?” the man replied.
“My sister… oh-oh, my friend, is this how a drunk man behaves?”
“Is this how an old man should ask secrets?”
“I was thinking of marrying a girl from my village, and you are addressing me as an old man?”
The quarrel was almost about to begin. But the man agreed to the old man’s proposal and insisted, “Okay, I will tell my secrets that I haven’t spoken to anybody. But in return, you have to do the same.”
The old man agreed. But who would be the first to tell the truth of their life? Believe me—that’s more difficult than solving a class twelve math problem.
“One day, I fell in love with a girl from my college. We were happy, and our marriage was just around the corner. But then, her family found someone else—someone with more… well, with more money. Not looks, not charm… but the smell of money, the scent of notes. She liked that scent,” the man cried.
“One day, I was thrown out of my own house,” the old man said in response.
“Why?”
“After my wife’s departure, I was living with my son. Throughout my whole life, I earned money—yes, money was not a problem. My son married a poor girl. She was poor, yet her heart was rich. She gave birth to two beautiful twins. We were so happy there. She would prepare food for me, take care of me, and give me my medicines on time.
After my mother passed away, I found my wife so careful with me. After her demise, I found my daughter-in-law.”
“Then?”
“Eight beautiful years elapsed. I was weak. Yes, I was fragile. My body refused to obey my instructions. I was sixty at that time. Then, one day, my son and his wife approached me, saying that they had to send my body to an old-age home. I refused to go there. I requested them to give me a little place in my own house, and I would be gone soon anyway. So, during the remaining days, let me stay with them.”
“The devil.”
“They did it. After that incident, we never met. I hoped not so. I was there in the old-age home. I had many friends there. Then, one night, I stole one hundred rupees from my friend’s pocket. I ventured into the station, entered the train’s bogie. I didn’t know where I was going. I was going somewhere unknown. I thought I should jump out of the running train. Then, all my woes would disappear. But no—I went with the train wherever it would take me.”
“I’m sorry. You should rest.”
“No. You are a foolish fellow. Let me complete it, or I may not find the right words tomorrow.”
“Then, I came across a new town. Yes, moron. This town. I found a man here. He was sixty-two years old. He was an overly religious person. He taught some well-known dogmas. I accepted them. No, my body agreed to receive those flowery words. My mind—never… never… never. Then, I started working here in a hotel. I used to wash the eaten plates of the customers. I worked there for over two years. Then, I found this place. The street was empty. The place was empty too. The government place!
I opened a bar here. People came. Every day, they drink. They cry. At least they are happy. I make them happy.”
It was dawn. The birds were chirping. The man put his hand on his shoulder. He had to go home. The next day would start like the mail train at the station, coming and going on the same track. The night was beautiful. So beautiful.
“I should leave now,” the man whispered in his ears.
“Hmm… come tonight. I should die today. I am disappointed. I wonder why I was born,” the old man added.
“Well, I shall soon meet you.”
“Here?”
“No. You may go first. I will be the latter.”
“I’ll keep a seat for you.”
“You should keep one for your son and his wife,” the man insisted, wiping away his tears. He opened the door and shut it on the old man's face.
